Keeping Watch eBook

“‘I surprised her,’ he ses, looking
very fierce. ’I went to ’er box and
I found a pile of ’em-a pile of ’em-tied
up with a piece o’ pink ribbon. And a photygraph
of my lord. And of all the narrer-chested, weak-eyed,
slack-baked, spindly-legged sons of a gun you ever
saw in your life, he is the worst. If I on’y
get my ’ands on him I’ll choke ’im
with his own feet.’

“He washed ‘is mouth out with a drop o’
beer and stood scowling at the floor.

“’Arter I’ve choked ‘im I’ll
twist his neck,’ he ses. ’If he ’ad
on’y put his address on ’is letters, I’d
go round and do it now. And my daughter, my
only daughter, won’t tell me where he lives.’

“‘She ought to know better,’ I ses.

“He took hold o’ my ’and and shook
it. ’You’ve got more sense than one
‘ud think to look at you, Bill,’ he ses,
not thinking wot he was saying. ‘You see
wot a mess I’m in.’

“‘Yes,’ I ses.

“‘I’m a nurse, that’s wot
I am,’ he ses, very savage. ’Just
a nursemaid. I can’t move ’and or
foot without that gal. ’Ow’d you
like it, yourself, Bill?’

“‘It must be very orkard for you,’
I ses. ‘Very orkard indeed.’

“‘Orkard !’ he ses; ’it’s
no name for it, Bill. I might as well be a Sunday-school
teacher, and ha’ done with it. I never
’ad such a dull time in all my life. Never.
And the worst of it is, it’s spiling my temper.
And all because o’ that narrer-eyed, red-chested—­you
know wot I mean!’

“He took another mouthful o’ beer, and
then he took ’old of my arm. ‘Bill,’
he ses, very earnest, ‘I want you to do me a
favour.’

“‘Go ahead,’ I ses.

“‘I’ve got to meet a pal at Charing
Cross at ha’-past seven,’ he ses; ‘and
we’re going to make a night of it. I’ve
left Winnie in charge o’ the cook, and I’ve
told ’im plain that, if she ain’t there
when I come back, I’ll skin ’im alive.
Now, I want you to watch ’er, too. Keep
the gate locked, and don’t let anybody in you
don’t know. Especially that monkey-faced
imitation of a man. Here ‘e is. That’s
his likeness.’

“He pulled a photygraph out of ’is coatpocket
and ’anded it to me.

“’That’s ‘im,’ he ses.
’Fancy a gal getting love-letters from a thing
like that! And she was on’y twenty last
birthday. Keep your eye on ’er, Bill,
and don’t let ‘er out of your sight.
You’re worth two o’ the cook.’

“He finished ’is beer, and, cuddling my
arm, stepped back to the wharf. Miss Butt was
sitting on the cabin skylight reading a book, and old
Joe, the cook, was standing near ’er pretending
to swab the decks with a mop.

“‘I’ve got to go out for a little
while—­on business,’ ses the skipper.
’I don’t s’pose I shall be long,
and, while I’m away, Bill and the cook will
look arter you.’

“Miss Butt wrinkled up ’er shoulders.

“’The gate’ll be locked, and you’re
not to leave the wharf. D’ye ‘ear?’